Fidelity
by HanaritsuKrizza
Summary: America has always been turning a blind eye on the way Romano turns soft in front of girls, but this one night, the superpower decides enough is enough. After all, all heroes are also just human behind the masks and capes and all humans have plenty of emotions inside. [Established Romerica]


_I do not own Hetalia._

Watch out, this is a Romerica (RomanoxAmerica) Established Relationship AU.

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America, the ever so powerful hero of the world, only very rarely - if not never - feels insecure about himself. (It isn't about the nation he presented, though; it's more of a personal matter that makes him unassertive and self-conscious, like he's starting to have questions that feed the uncertainty of his being.) It isn't the time when England used to leave him alone in an enormous yet empty house all by himself because he had some better things to do (it's work, nothing personal). It isn't even when it was Italy's smile that saved them from the _Pictonians_ back then, despite him being the hero. And it certainly isn't the times when he's being compared with his brother, Canada, and being told that the polite nation is more endearing than him. (America doesn't really care, he takes pride for Canada being awesome and all.) These moments are not his proudest, but they are not enough to make him doubt himself.

If there is ever a time that he feels insecure, it is when Romano, his oh so _faithful_ lover, turns his attitude to a complete one-eighty when in front of a female specie.

Romano is the type of personified nation who snaps at anyone who approaches him without a reasonable purpose. He's kind of always annoyed and irritated at just about anything. He calls people names and often ends his sentences with a series of expletives. And he's consistent on being spiteful when he's talking (although America knows now when he's serious or not). That, somewise, is only limited to the male population.

When he's in the presence of a girl, lady or woman, he goes all flirt-y and smile-y and all soft. America thinks it's on his Italian instincts to go all lovely and goofy and to charm every female possible, not like he needs to woo them, really, all he needs to do is to breathe in the same space and the girls will be all over him. But the point is, he goes all romantic and permits those ladies to see his handsome smile. And no matter how much he despises the way it makes him feel so utterly displeased about himself, America truthfully understands it because he's a superpower and being accepting about his lover's culture is just one of his awesome attributes.

However, after that being said, all heroes are still just human behind the masks and capes , and all humans feel plenty of emotions inside—one of them is insecurity, another one is jealousy and it takes America a lot of willpower to stop himself from marching where Romano and Belgium are _talking_ and punch the both of them. He really shouldn't punch Romano because his punches are deadly and he doesn't really want to hurt his lover and he should never punch Belgium, too, because he's not such an asshole to do that to a girl. Besides, Netherlands will run amok if he ever tried and the party will turn into a pandemonium.

Speaking of the party, this party, where almost all of the nations attend, is the type where only unwinding is allowed—no meetings, no business, no commercial operations. That's why it's only being held once in a blue moon. Some of the nations have their bosses in tow while some don't, but it's remarkably peaceful because everyone seems to set aside their impersonal affairs and allow themselves to loosen up, just for one night. And probably, it helps that America is not being his cheerful and carefree self and instead is silently seething at the corner.

(It makes England, Canada and France worried, but with America like this, there's really nothing they can do but to secretly watch over him.)

America chugs the champagne on his hand and almost breaks the flute glass when he slams it on the cocktail table. Canada looks at him half-worriedly and half-indignantly but he only waves it with a very bogus grin of his own.

Normally, he doesn't get this affected and doesn't over react at his lover's habit, but tonight is different. It's perhaps because America has been running around the function hall dragging his boss to meet and greet the other nations' bosses that he hasn't had the opportunity to proceed to where Romano waits. But _damn_ , the southern half of Italy isn't doing anything to approach him, either. He hasn't even glanced at him throughout the night and it doesn't help that even though Belgium is just indulging him, Romano is still making heart eyes and flashing his lady-killer smile at her. Damn him for being so outstandingly attractive on his tuxedo.

The superpower nation takes another drink offered by the attendant. This time, it's a dry rose wine, a Bordeaux Blend, perhaps, but he's not that initiated with wines so he can't tell, and honestly, it's the least of his concerns right now.

What tops his list of concerns is the way Romano gently caresses a piece of accessory from Belgium's hair while displaying a pleasantly curious smile and America thinks, _That's it! That's the last straw, you damn romantic Italian! It doesn't matter if you're just examining the intricate patterns of diamonds and vines! Touching is a big no-no, you—_

He drinks the rest of his wine and put the glass down, shrugging when its base actually breaks this time. He moves to saunter down the hall when Canada's grip suddenly halts him. As he turns to face his brother, he is met with a furious nation who looks especially intimidating now that he's wearing a dinner suit and without his polar bear in sight. Even though his features are still soft, Canada can be daunting if he wants to.

"Teach him a lesson," pronounces Canada with his brows furrowing and his eyes looking at Romano's direction. When America stills, Canada shifts his gaze to him and faintly adds, "but don't overdo it."

For a second, America ponders on how to deny whatever assumption Canada is making, but the serious and somewhat understanding look from his brother tells him that all escape routes have been eradicated. So, unwilling as he may be, he merely reassures him, "I've got this."

On his way to Romano, which is only about five tables nigh, he sees from the corner of his eyes that England's and France's gazes are following him with such an intensely mindful look, like they're ready to attack (or back him up) any moment. Seriously, he has some freakishly protective family. While nearing Romano and Belgium, America puts his game face on and shows his signature grin.

"Hello, guys!" The two nations startles at the volume of his voice and are naturally inclined to face him. He stands beside Romano and rests his hand at his lover's shoulder with a force that's unknown to a normal person. He hears him slightly wincing at the contact and deliberately ignores him. "Hey, Belgium, you look nice in that... whatever that is! Haha! How's it going?"

He feels Romano shifting at his side while Belgium gives him a surprise look. He keeps his gaze on her, smiling so cheerfully while paying no heed to the hisses sent his way. A series of _"Hey, America, hey!"_ from his side goes ignored, as well.

Belgium looks at him, glances at Romano, and then fixes her gaze back to America before answering his question with a smile, "Just fine, thank you. And you also look as gorgeous as ever, America."

"Ahaha, thanks. The presidential stylist extended her labor and effort to me, you see. I told my boss that I don't need it but they insisted, now here I am, dressed in this stuffy suit. To be honest, I very much prefer my military uniform and jacket, but hey, it's a once in a blue moon event so why not? Hahaha!"

Subsequently, Romano, who's been on a silent pain while waiting for him to finish, finally yanks America's hand off of his shoulder. "What's wrong with you, bastard? That fucking hurts!"

Belgium's eyes widen a bit at Romano's exclaim, most possibly because she doesn't know how hard America's hand is kneading his shoulder. And America disregards her in favor of _finally_ facing the love of his life.

"Hey, _South Italy!_ Bro!" he greets him, all fake smiles included.

"Don't 'bro' me! What's wrong with you?" Romano asks, his eyes curious and searching. He probably already senses that something's odd with America - well, apart from the shoulder-kneading - due to the fact that he just calls him 'South Italy' which has never happened ever since they started dating, with no regards to the time, place or even the people they're with.

"Hahaha! South Italy! You have the nerve to ask me what's wrong?" America's smile turns to one that he only ever shows to Russia when they're engaging a discordance. The poor Italian actually shivers. "After you've been giving heart eyes to other nation even though your other half is also present— no, even though you already have an other half."

"A-america? Listen, t-that's not— I just..." Romano cowers in fear, likely also an Italian instinct.

America, however, doesn't care too much (he normally does, but he's not rational at the moment). He wants to speak his mind without discretion, so he allows the other nations, as well as some inquisitive bosses and servers, to witness the drama and hear what they can hear. Belgium merely stares at them and doesn't attempt to break in. After all, she's getting the front row of the show.

"What is that, you damn flirt? You go all soft and smile-y to all the ladies while never looking at me even once. For someone known as the world's greatest lover, you sure are doing a shitty job being one." He smiles some more, hearing the growing whispers and murmurs of their audience followed by the judging stares that are never meant to be discreet at all. He inspects Romano's face and the flushing red he sees due to shame and embarrassment causes him to have a satisfied grin.

"Next time you behave like this, I'm really going to put a leash on you, regardless of whether it will or will not go well with your Italian suit."

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A while and a satisfied nation later, America excuses himself from the party to repose and breathe. He takes Romano with him and goes straight at the stairs of the fire exit, locking the door in the process. They sit quietly, with America feeling satisfied with himself while trying to push away the guilt that's creeping into him as he looks at the resigned posture of his lover.

Romano's shoulder are crouching low and he hasn't said a word since then and he only glances at America from time to time with that unreadable expression that's making the superpower curious.

When he, unsurprisingly, can't take the silence anymore, America tries to get his attention only to get interrupted by his lover's sudden outburst. "Um, Roma—"

"Urgh, damn it! Damn, damn, damn it!"

Seeing as Romano really has taken a blow on what he did earlier, America suddenly feels remorseful. The guilt that he tries to hinder is now attacking him with full force partnered with regret and a lot more regret and _damn, damn, damn fucking me, why did I do that? Now I've hurt him and he's mad and he will never want to be with—_

"I'm sorry."

America's impromptu self-deprecating moment takes a halt after hearing Romano's unusually soft voice. He looks at him, startling a bit when he meets his lover's gaze. When the silence lingers, Romano speaks again.

"You were right and I'm ashamed of myself. World's greatest lover aside, as your lover, I shouldn't have made you feel that way. Damn it. I was— it was such an asshole thing to do. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive me because I don't— I was— There really is no one besides you that I love this much."

America gapes at the man beside him, who, in the middle of his speech, looks just about to cry. He seems pained and repentant but mostly, sincere. All of a sudden, the superpower nation feels constricted to the heavy atmosphere surrounding them. Maybe that's a sign that he's back to his always-positive self.

"Who are you and what did you do to my Romano?!" he asks incredulously, surprising Romano who turns from docile to irate in a span of two seconds. _Yup, that's my Romano._

"B-bastard, it's me, your one and only lover!"

"Hahaha! All is forgiven, hon!" He pecks at Romano's cheek and offers him a smile sans the ominous feeling. He thinks of apologizing for giving him a fright earlier and for his really immature and unheroic act, but then the smile that grazes Romano's lips has an impact enough to shush him. So instead, he just closes his mouth and kisses him on the lips.

"All right, now that all is well, let's go back to the party and show each other off!" America suggests after the satisfying moment. He stands up and proceeds to unlock to door when Romano stops him.

"Wait, damn it, wait a second," Romano, while holding his wrist, stands in front of him and pins his gaze to America's full person. With an appreciative smile, he looks at the superpower from head to toe, checking him out completely. "I couldn't get a hold of you before, that's why I haven't had the opportunity to admire how stunning you look tonight," he finishes, now tracing America's glazed lower lip.

America's eyes light up at the gesture and decides to abandon his original plan. "Haha! Alright then, I'm all yours!" Snaking his arms on his lover's shoulder, he meet Romano's lips halfway as they share a kiss so passionate it carries warmth, words and sentiments. They kiss again, and then some more and let their own selves get lost to each other without a single care to the other side of the door.

It's okay not to show off, then. At least now, he has Romano all to himself.

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I'm accepting all forms of reaction, from calm and normal to bloody and trashy, just send me a review if you have some. Thanks a lot for checking it out!

 _A/N: Hetalia is, like, one of the animes that I can rewatch over and over again without getting bored. Also, I'm totally smitten with dear America and I really like UKUS, but things happen and I fell so hard for Romerica. Huh. I guess I'm not loyal._


End file.
